Courage is Found in the Strangest Places
by mdmefrancaise
Summary: Nigel is captured after a relic hunt in Paris goes awry. Will the Englishman be able to demonstrate his worth to Sydney? The story continues.
1. The beginning

**AN: This is my first fan fiction stories, so be nice to me. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in Relic Hunter.**

**Courage is Found in the Strangest Places**

A lone figure sat up against the far wall in the cold, dark dungeon. The body shivered and coughed a horrible, wretched cough that shook his entire frame. The body seemed as though it required the support of the chains that held its raw wrists up just to keep from sinking to the hard floor.

The man that was held captive in the window-less, dirty cell was a young chap of his mid-twenties who would've normally looked quite neat and respectable. However, at the present he was bloody and bruised; his normally tidy auburn hair was matted with blood and it now stuck to his head where his temple was struck by the same golden scepter that he and his boss Sydney were hunting for. The man sighed for he remembered how he had gotten into this mess. The he sighed for he wondered how he would now get out of it.

3 days prior

Nigel Bailey sat slouched in his chair in the office of Professor Sydney Fox, who is otherwise known as the World-famous Relic Hunter Sydney Fox. The Englishman never could quite grasp the thought that he was the assistant to the famous treasure-hunter. In his heart, she was just Sydney, the exceptional history professor whose classes were so jam-packed that students had to sit on the floor. Though, there was no doubting her well-earned status when Nigel witnessed her in action. Sydney could take on anyone using either her magnificent strength or wit. He also was convinced whenever he would meet one of Sydney's "male friends" and they would regale him with a stupendous tale of how they met searching for a mysterious relic.

Though today, it was a quiet day and Nigel was content in reading a good mystery in the corner office. He would imagine himself in the detective's role, and in the end, he would heroically expose the murderer. It felt good to think that he, Nigel, could do something so heroic and maybe even death-defying, for Nigel usually wasn't as active and vital as Sydney was in bringing down a bad relic hunter or getting out of a jam. He wished that he could help Sydney more in her "work," but however he tried to, he always mad matters worse. Though, today was good; nothing out of the ordinary and no "being-chased-by-bad-guys." But, breaking the welcomed silence, Sydney rushed into the office and stopped by Nigel's desk just long enough to say...

"Nigel, get packed. We're heading for Paris."

**Well, should I continue? Let me know. If you give me ideas, maybe I'll write them in! -KMSOrligirl**


	2. So it begins

**A/N: Well! Guess who finally got back to writing a chapter in this story! Sorry for the extremely long wait but I have been busy reading other stories, learning how to drive, and doing a lot, and I mean a lot of homwork!**

**Disclaimer: The fact still remains that I own nothing of the Relic Hunter show or any of its great characters.**

Nigel was shocked at Syndey's sudden declaration.

"Syd, what's up?"

"Nigel, do you know of Pierre Dufont?

"Pierre Dufont...Dufont...wasn't he a master jewel thief who disarmed the wealthy of their priceless trinkets during the 18th century?"

"Right on Nigel, and with his mysterious death in 1792 went any sort of clue to where the jewels could be found, until now."

"Syd, what do you mean? Wait, that phone call just now. Did you just get a tip to where Dufont's priceless jewel collection is hidden?" There was a grin forming on Sydney's face, a grin that could only mean...

"Yes Nigel! We may just have been given the clue of the century! Now, pack you bags. We're off to Paris!

( back in the cell... )

The cough wasn't getting any better. The air was putrid and every breath that the man took in came with

a layer of dust that caked the man's throat. The man's head was realing. He could hear screams coming from all around him; at least they were not his screams, not yet anyway. They had already tried to whip him, but never a sound escaped his lips. How could he scream and break and tell his ruthless captors of the wherabouts of the jewels?

Yes, the cough wasn't getting any better. With the last cough of the man came a little touch of blood on the side of his mouth.

"Syd, hurry," the man croaked out, but his strength had left his weak body and he lost conciousness.

**Well, like it? Hate it? Leave me a review or any suggestions. I'll try to update twice a week, sound good?**


	3. Clues

**A/N: Well, I thought that I had better rip out another chapter at least to this tale so I can say that I have updated every year. I'm in that transition year in high school of being a senior and getting ready for college. If anyone out there is going to UW Madison, drop by and say Hi. So, hopefully this poor excuse can suffice for my tardiness in updating this story. I am very thankful for the people, back in the day, who took the time and read the first two chapters. I just realized that I had some 1200 hits for the story, so I guess I'd better finish it. Also, special thanks to Llanea, XenaLin, Souless-tears, Flashtabulor, Tanya Reed, Tantz, triple-m1978, Elemental-ZerO, and Space-Case7029 for commenting on the story. I hope you stay tuned! I can surely promise you updates, especially during this Christmas Break, will be much more frequent than they have been in the past.**

**So, enough with my spiel. Let the story commence!**

**Wait!**

**Disclaimer: Prosecutor: Do you own Relic Hunter or any of its characters?**

**Me: Nop.**

**Judge: A simple no is sufficient.**

**Me: No, but I'd like to.**

**Prosecutor: Ah Ha! She admits it!**

He could feel a hard object jabbing into his side, but he did not want to wake. Staying unconscious, he does not feel the pain. The object, however, was persistent and succeeded in reviving his unconscious body lying awkwardly in the corner of the cell, his head at an odd angle and his limbs splayed out across the cold, stone floor.

As he opened his eyes, his vision was blurred and all his poor eyes could see was the outline of two figures looking down at him. They were probably the same ones who hurt him last night, and the day before, and the day before that, but he could not tell. Days and nights blended in his new cell world, and all his captors looked the same to him.

"Oui?" he croaked in but a whisper.

"Où est le sceptre?" (Where is the scepter?)

"Je ne comprends pas." (I don't know.)

"OÙ EST LE SCEPTRE DU DUFONT! DIS-MOI!" (Tell me!)

He remained silent all throughout the barrage of blows aimed at his ribs. He heard another one crack; not good. He had heard that sound twice already during his reluctant stay in this hellhole. Finally, his captors had had enough and had to accept the fact that this young man, yet again, would not talk.

He had thought the captors had left, but through the pain, Nigel heard talking.

"He's a waste of time! He'll die soon enough anyway. We must stop fannying about with this one and track down the woman he was with when we got him. She must know where the scepter is. This guy is probably just a pawn in this game of cat and mouse. I must have her, Remy, or it'll be your neck with a noose tied around it after I make my report to Le Maître (The Master) that the scepter has been lost, again. Do you understand me mate?"

"Oui, monsieur. Parfaitement. We will find 'er."

"Bon, monsieur. I need to return to London for some urgent ... business. Contact me of any further developments."

He heard them slam his cell door and he was left alone in the darkness yet again. Only a small hole in the stone wall was there to remind Nigel that a world outside his cell did exist, one that contained Sydney, the scepter, and Cyrille. The chances of his escape were dimming, but he would not crack, for Sydney, one whom has always stood up for him and saved him from a myriad of perils.

Something resembling food was shoved through a flap in the door, but it was too far away. Nigel neither had the strength nor the stomach to fetch it.

Slipping back into unconscious bliss, he could no help wondering at how familiar the Englishman's voice was.

It was on that thought that he soon passed out.

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(On the plane ride to Paris)

"Syd, who told you about the whereabouts of Dufont's famous jewels?"

"A good friend named Cyrille. A gang of French hoodlums was chasing him through the streets of Paris when I just happened to be enjoying a delectable baguette et café when the chase ended up taking place at the café. I didn't mind the disturbance much until my table was overturned when the chase-e fell on it and spilled my coffee. After a quick briefing of what was going on, I took the side of the chase-e and helped him to escape his troublesome friends. Turns out the chase-e was Cyrille Fache, a relic hunter employed by the Louvre to find many of France's lost treasures. He found a lost relic all right, but the relic had been the current property of a local kingpin. Naturally, the big shot wanted it back, hence the deadly parade through Paris. Through the years, he's kept in touch, and in a way of paying back for my assistance, he has tipped me off on a few French relic locals, but on one condition: the Louvre gets anything he helps me find."

"Sounds like a good system. But, how in the world did he get a lead on the lost jewels, namely, the Golden Scepter of King Charles the Tenth of France?"

"You'll soon be able to ask him. We're here," she said, as the city of Paris became visible in the aircraft's windows.

"Whatever you say, Syd," he laughed.

**Well, I hope this succeeds in unfurling the story a bit. I do not claim to be excellent at French, but I'm trying my hardest, especially since that will be my major in college. Please regale me with a review or two about what you think. Any suggestions are welcome.**

**À Bientôt!**

**-Kmsorligirl**


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